


Dust in the Maker's Eye

by KnightRepentant



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Space, Dragon Age - Freeform, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 18:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15955391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightRepentant/pseuds/KnightRepentant
Summary: The Thedas system is in turmoil. The verdant world of Orlais, basking in the bountiful light of the Maker’s Eye, is now a warzone as two contenders vie for the Imperial throne. The Qunari cultists make fresh assaults from the searing inner system against the ailing Tevinter throne world. The moons of the Marchers grow uneasy. The guerrilla war between Mage and Templar ships rages across the system as temple stations collapse one by one into anarchy. The twilight world of Orzammar suffers constant attacks from darkspawn plague ships. Weisshaupt, bastion station of the Grey Wardens, has refused all hails. Now, a convoy of Chantry ships is bound for the Temple station around the Fereldan moon of Haven for a Conclave that many hope will bring a lasting peace…





	Dust in the Maker's Eye

Where once there had been a great storm of noise, now there was only quiet. A brittle silence that circled as might some patient predator. There was light, but it was cold, impassive. Here and there it was obscured by jagged, twisted metal, tumbling amidst the dust. The glare of the sun awoke amber eyes. Sensation crept back to aching limbs. And upon his hand, haloed by the tattered remains of his sleeve, there was a storm of emerald arcs. Shallow breaths were deafening inside his helmet, and they only grew louder as a new shadow crossed the sun…

\--

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.” Stark white light attempted in vain to illuminate the featureless grey cell. Much of the haggard frame kneeling beneath it was left in shadow, but for the occasional flash of bright green. Each crackle of that eldritch lightning forced a hiss of pain between clenched teeth, but the question gained no answer. “The Conclave is destroyed, everyone who was on that station is dead! Except for _you._ ” Cassandra wrapped a armour-clad hand about a tanned throat, “I have no patience for games, elf, speak!” Amber eyes glared into hers, defiant. Violent green sparks soured the air, the Seeker seized the afflicted hand and forced that crackling wound close enough to the elf’s face that his eyes welled with tears. “Explain _this!_ ”

“Leave him, Cassandra!” A slender silhouette stood framed in the doorway, “a dead man keeps his secrets.” Flame-haired and poised like a dagger, another woman joined the first in the light. “Who are you?” From between his teeth came only a low, rattling snarl. The red-haired woman seemed unsurprised, “I’ll start, then, shall I? You came here as part of security hired for the Conclave, but you are no simple sellsword. I should have expected the clanfleets would take an interest given the current climate.” The elf said nothing, and merely watched her like a cat, his breath shallow, “So, which fleet do you claim? Fleet Sabrae? Fleet Mahariel? No, they are too small to afford to send one of their own so far. Ralaferin, perhaps? Or Lavellan?” His gaze faltered for the smallest instant and she had her answer. “Your name.” It was not a request. The reply seemed as a collared beast that had to be dragged from its lair,

“Arenno.” He was afraid, she could tell that much. The elf held himself perfectly still, as though he were a deer caught in the gaze of a prowling wolf.

“Do you remember what happened? Our soldiers found you drifting amidst the station wreckage…” His brow furrowed as he reached for the memories,

“I was…somewhere else, a cold place. There were whispers, and…a woman.”

“A woman?” Frustration furrowed his brow,

“I…don’t know. I can’t remember, there’s just…blackness.” His expression was one of helplessness and fear, “I don’t know what happened.” His interrogators shared a meaningful look, until the red-haired woman nodded slowly,

“Guilty or not, we have little time.”

“Take the skiff, Leliana, and prepare our forces for the assault.” The one named Cassandra turned her dark gaze onto the petrified elf, “I will show him what awaits us.”  The elf was dragged to his feet and shoved out of the cell. The cramped corridors were a gauntlet, armoured soldiers knocking into him every other moment as Cassandra and her guards forged a path through them. Most barely spared him a glance, until the mark on his hand flared green, but despite a few nervous scowls, no-one spoke a word.

“Where…are we?” Arenno panted at the top of a steep set of steps,

“You will see soon enough.”

They arrived breathless in a low, roughly circular room lined with terminals. There was little light and no sound but for the quiet hum of the air filters. On a raised platform in the centre, a man stood surrounded by a gallery of holoscreens. The main screen depicted the entire system laid out neatly, threaded with the orbits of dozens of ships.

“Seeker Pentaghast, what is the meaning of this? This…elf, should be in irons!” Cassandra’s lip curled at the challenge,

“The prisoner must know what we face if he’s to be any help, _Acting-Captain_.” The man sniffed haughtily and stepped down to face them,

“I will not have this unknown magic in my CIC, Seeker, we can ill afford a repeat of Temple Station at this critical hour. If this elf has any insight to give, let it be given in the brig!” Cassandra quirked one corner of her mouth, unimpressed,

“First show him the anomaly.” The main screen flickered and the room was bathed in sickly green light. Twisting, formless and haloed in debris was a tear in the fabric of space itself. “We’ve called it the Breach. The most learned mages that remain believe it leads through the Veil, though none of our probes have survived long enough to confirm it. All we know that it is growing, and we have no way to stop it.” Arenno gazed at the shifting fractals, threaded with green lightning, like a flickering flower in the void. At the point of light blazing at its heart.

“What…what happened?”

“One moment the Mage and Templar representatives were convening, the next the Temple was dust. That’s all we know.” The acting-captain scrolled his screen to a map of the surrounding space, “the space between Orlais and Ferelden is in chaos, Mage and Templar ships are ripping each other to shreds with civilians caught between them.”

“One crisis at a time, Roderick. The Breach must remain our first priority.” Cassandra looked hard at Arenno, “This is the part where you explain yourself.” All eyes swivelled to the elf, “Your guilt or innocence are matters for another time, so either you help us stop the Breach from consuming the entire system, or we throw you off the ship without a vac-suit.” Arenno scowled, eyes darting between the watching bridge officers, to the exits, to the mag-rifles brandished by the Chantry marines. Cassandra tightened her grip on her sword, until at last the elf’s shoulders sank as his defiance melted away,

“What would you have me do?”

\--

Arenno looked at his ashen, soot-stained face reflected in the visor of his helmet. His insides were knotting themselves like frenzied serpents. He felt ready to throw up, but knew from the gnawing in his stomach that nothing would come of it. His new vac-suit did little to relieve his discomfort; it had not been made for an elf, even one of his height, and he had already pulled every strap as tight as they would go. The clicking of mag-boots on the deck snapped his head up, but it was not Cassandra that joined him in the shuttle cabin.

“ _Andaran atish’an_ , my friend,” a small smile adorned the face of another elf, tall and pale, with not a hair on his head. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” Arenno looked the man up and down,

“You’re a mage,” he said bluntly. Solas’ suit was not the bulky armour of the Chantry marines, and was adorned with long flowing cloth, though the make was coarse at best. The other elf laughed lightly,

“Quite so, though not one affiliated with the Chantry, or anyone else for that matter.” Arenno made a non-committal noise and returned to inspecting his reflection. “It was fortunate we were able to find you, I do not relish the thought of what that Mark would have done to you had I not intervened.” Amber eyes looked hard at him, dark brows furrowed,

“What do you mean?” Solas’ smile never wavered,

“I kept you alive, kept that Mark from ripping you through the Veil. Not an easy task when one is dealing with an entirely unknown form of magic.” The end of Solas’ sentence was cut short as Cassandra strode through the airlock, fully arrayed in gleaming armour,

“Enough pleasantries for now.” She took a seat beside Solas with a clatter, “helmets on, straps tight, we’re shoving off in sixty seconds.” Her deep brown eyes locked with Arenno’s for a long moment, but betrayed naught but quiet resolve.

The new helmet pressed Arenno’s ears tight against his head in no small measure of discomfort, but the sensation was forgotten when the shuttle jolted and gravity within the cabin vanished.

“The _Temperance_ is away,” the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom, “Aligning to target vector.” Blood tumbled in Arenno’s head as the skiff re-orientated itself, “All hands, brace for acceleration burn.” Pressure hit the passengers like a speeding train. Gales roared in Arenno’s ears and his vision became a blurry mess of grey and red. He felt every second scraping by as he felt his chest come closer and closer to caving in, felt the sensation being squeezed from his limbs. Cassandra sat opposite, stoic and still as a statue, watching him with the smallest trace of amusement. A minute later, the crushing weight abruptly lifted and the blessed lightness returned. “Burn complete, Seeker Pentaghast. We’re on course to rendezvous with the fleet, ETA four hours.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a taster for now, hopefully more to come.


End file.
